Ones Creed
by irshacacia
Summary: One person's creed is another's downfall.
1. Chapter 1

It's been a long time since I last wrote a story let alone one for people to read. I never submitted one to a website so please be gentle it's my first time.

I want to thank my sister Hotaru-Hime who helped rekindle the mournful Irish poet within me. I just need to grease up these rusty gears!

When I first saw the Assassin's Creed trailer I was watching I Love New York (Please don't hate me I just love New York she is just awesome bitch lol) I was in awe at the graphics and Altaïr reminded me of my boyfriend. Yes I am that lucky. I was enthralled to know more about the game so I googled it.

This story is also to contribute to the movie Two Mules for Sister Sarah and the Broadway musical Aida. I was blessed to see it in NYC with my high school chorus. I cried at the end! TT

To give forewarning this story isn't a Mary-Sue it is just something screaming within me to be written. In fact this story will be something you wont expect. I claim ownership of my characters but I don't own Assassin's Creed or anything Ubisoft created. I wish I did though! That would be awesome! lolz

Chapter 1 - Into the Fly Trap

'So dry...'

Even her inner thoughts had a harsh tone. Her knuckles turned white as she squeezed the reigns of her piebald. The leather bit her palms and she relaxed. The horse fidgeted beneath her and let out a whine. Its hoof clawed at the ground. She muttered as dust floated up, "My God. My husband there is beauty in all. Perhaps this is a test for me to see the beauty of water." Her tongue rolled over her chapped lips in a vain attempt to wet them. This place, this Holy Land. Is it Holy because it makes you humble? Her mind wander back to what brought her here. Her hand moved beneath her robes and held the small pendant. The designs etched in the gold where very similar to a King Solomon seal. She recalled the old man with shaky hands holding the small object with all of his might to keep it still as he inspected it. Had her Mother let alone any of her brothers and sisters in Christ had known the things she had done and the very thing she was doing she would be shunned and exiled from the Church in shame. "But they don't know. Isn't that right _Caoimhe_?" She patted her horse's neck. She hadn't gotten this far to give up.

"Lord provided to Mary Magdalene as she wander the forests naked, I suppose I can't complain." She dug her heels into the horse's flanks and it took off, obviously happy to move again. She had to catch herself from falling as it bounded down the grassy hill and back onto the dirt road. She trotted along singing a light song when not to far off the road she heard the laughter of men and the sound of English speakers. She pulled the horse off the road again and followed the voices behind rock and hills until she found the camp. It was three men. All dressed in European garb. Their swords and other weaponry strewn about the site. They failed to notice her as they laughed and drank from large jugs. One with the dark curly hair and thick stubble pushed the larger Saxon man on the shoulder and he fell to the ground with a laugh.

"Brothers, may you share a drink with a sister? Tis too dry and my water skin has emptied long ago," she said loudly atop her horse. All three snapped their heads in her direction and it became very quiet.

After what seemed like an eternity the dark one laughed slapping his chest with his free hand and took several steps towards her.

"Good sister." He had a very thick French accent. "We would be honored to serve a wife to Christ." He grinned widely and held a hand out to her. "You are a mother to us and thusly we will treat you like an honored mother! Isn't that right?" The other man stood and picked up an opened jug and joined the French man. He had very short ashy hair and gray eyes. They all looked very young. Not even twenty years of age. "Pray tell what is thy sister's name?"

"I am Sister Brigid." Brigid smiled warmly and dismounted. She folded her arms under her robes as she walked to them. "May I ask my brothers what your names are?"

The Frenchman tilted back his head and laughed. It was then she could smell the alcohol. It stank even ten feet away. He bowed to her and smiled. "I am Phillip, this is.." He waved his hand at the ashen haired man.

"Christopher, my sister"

The Saxon sat back down in the center of the campsite and leaned against his bags. "I am Erik." He took a long swig of his jug. He didn't look at her as he said this. At any other circumstance Brigid would consider this rude but right now they were obviously inebriated and she didn't want to make them mad and lose a chance to feel cool liquid quench her parched body.

Phillip took the jug from Christopher roughly. Some of it spilled out onto his hand. He didn't seem to even notice it. Brigid looked at his hands. They were dark and stained with dirt and something else. It was brown and his hands almost appeared to be calico. He slowly extended the jug to her. His face seemed serious. She reached out to take it by its clay handle but he jerked it away. His face twisted with a laugh.

"What is this game?" She asked. She took a step back. Her pale hands went immediately back to her robes.

"Oh sister." Phillip sighed. "Tis only a game. I am serious this time!" He nodded his head and held the jug back out to her.

Her eyes focused on his. They were a light honey brown. They seemed glassy like the cold creeks of Northern Europe. She watched him as she slowly reached out again. As her fingers touched the warm wet clay Phillip's other hand snatched her wrist. "You are a fool sister. Only in Europe, in your own property could any woman be _safe _to travel alone." He jerked her to him. The jug shattered on the large yellow rocks. He smiled again. He was strong. Stronger than she anticipated. He held her with one arm wrapped around her to him and his free hand pulled her simple white wimple from her head. A tumble of curly gold spilled out from her nape and she gasped.

"How dare! RELEASE ME!" She clawed at his face and he laughed. She hissed and flailed like a cat. Christopher took the reigns of her horse.

"Tis an Erie horse Erik." He said as he led it to theirs. Erik stood leaving his jug on the ground. He pulled the bags from the piebald and dumped the contents on the rocky ground. "This sister is an Erie woman. They aren't people as far as we are concerned. They are savages just like these animals in this blasted country!" Christopher became enraged. He picked up a small wooden trinket and threw it at Sister Brigid. She tried to shield herself with Phillip's body but the Frenchman threw her roughly to the ground. She bounced her hands tried to catch her fall but were chewed up by the rocks.

'Oh God this isn't really happening!' She thought. Her mind raced as she scrambled to her feet. Her hands screamed in pain as she gripped a jagged rock. She looked around frantically and backed away from Phillip. "Come any closer to me _cladhaire _and I will beat your skull in!" She screamed. She held the rock over her head in a threatening way. Phillip smiled and laughed again. He shadowed her steps like a dance.

"Dearest Sister, how would your husband feel about that? I thought you should turn the other cheek!"

She became angry. Angrier than she had ever felt. "_D'fhág tú mé bhí_!" She cried and hurled the jagged rock at Phillip's head. He ducked and laughed again.

Christopher joined Phillip's side and the men laughed at her. "Be careful comrade these Erie savages drink the blood from their son's castrated penises!"

"Is that true Sister?" Phillip asked is a husky tone. "Mayhap she is a witch in disguise of a nun! She came here to poison our drink and kill us in the night!" This assumption seemed to give him courage. He coiled back and dove into her chest with his shoulder. Brigid let out a yelp of shock and pain and tumbled to the ground. Phillip quickly made use of the advantage and thrust his hand onto her throat and began to shake her neck as if to snap it. "You stupid bitch! If you were nice we would have let you live!" He laughed almost manically. Christopher went to her feet to restrain them but her left leg lashed out and boot struck his nose. A loud crunch could be heard just before a painful scream. The young man fell onto his backside and cradled his face. His white tunic under his leather was stained with bright red blood. At that point Erik dropped what he was doing and ran to his small friend he tried to comfort him and held a towel to his face. He whispered to the ashen haired man who stood up and sat back in the camp weeping. Erik seemed to tower over the prone woman and almost as fast as lightening dug his large hand into her curly hair and yanked her to her feet. Brigid let out a scream as she struggled. She tried to claw at his forearm with her nails but he wore leather bracers. She kicked and cursed at them in her native tongue as Erik began pulling her white robes unceremoniously off of her until she stood in the glaring sun in her simple under tunic. Brigid grabbed the last remaining robe and held on with all her might.

"Leave me be!" She cried in English.

"You are too much trouble for your worth Erie." Erik released her and stalked away just as Phillip came to them. The French man grabbed the other end of the robe and began to tug on it in a teasing way. Brigid yanked the other end away from him and cursed "_Imigh sa diabhal_!"

Phillip laughed tilting his head back with his hands on his hips turning to his friends but it trailed off.

They were gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry it took so long for the next chapter! Christmas shopping is really annoying especially when you have a big family! Thank you for all the supportive reviews:-D

Update in Chapter! On the good point made by a fellow author I added the horizontal line thingy to divide the character POV transitions better. Symbols aren't working for me for some reason /wrists!! T.T

Chapter 2 - Angels

Phillip yanked Brigid to him and began to pull her towards the camp. "Erik? Christopher?" He called. There was no reply. He pulled a dagger from his belt with his free hand and held it to her throat. "Be still you stupid woman!" Brigid froze at the feeling the edge of the blade. Her breath caught in her throat when Phillip stumbled over the broken clay jug. When they edged toward the ashen remains of the fire Phillip let out a small gasp and tightened his grip on the Nun. There was blood splatter along the rocks and Erik's gear. Much more than a broken nose could ever give.

"What have you done?" He growled to her. "Have your demonic allies come and killed my friends in silence?!"

"Release me you fool!" She whispered to him. " I have done nothing! Instead it is you who has molested me yet I am to blame for this ill fortune? It's better to just let me go and run while you can instead of us both dying!" He didn't release her. Instead the already tight grip grew painfully stronger. She let out a small whimper has her ribs where crushed.

"I wont let you go." He nodded. "No. If whatever comes for us I will use you as my shield and escape." He quickly turned her and snatched her throat. His arm snaked between her breasts and pressed her back to him. Brigid felt a flush of heat run to her cheeks. Embarrassed she tried to pry his arm away from such an intimate spot.

"Despite what you have done. I do not wish for you to die." It was hard for her to talk. His calloused fingers were ruthless and his hand stank of blood and grime. She felt tears begin to well up in her eyes. 'Do I deserve this? Is this what my sins of lying and deceiving brought me to? Oh God.' They backed away to the horses. Phillip held the dagger out in a defensive way.

It seemed like an eternity until a shadow flew across the rocks above and behind them. Phillip let out a yell and turned them. Brigid barely kept on her feet. She felt like a rag doll in this brute's arms. "I see you!" He screamed. "You are just a man! Show yourself!"

* * *

It was so hard for Altaïr not to reveal himself and show he didn't need stealth and cunning to kill this buffoon. He was molded into a large boulder watching the rogue knight as he circled the campsite. He held his would-be-victim in his arm as a shield. Fortunately for the _nisa_ her head barely reached his chin, which gave him ample space for a dagger to be thrown into his skull.

He heard the struggle as he rode down the path. A woman screaming and men with their raised voices. During these times it would only be one thing. Despite the fact they were clearing speaking the language of the _Salibi_ the ending of evil in this land was his mission. Climbing the boulders was child's play. He squatted and watched as the dark man with curly brown hair pin her by the throat laughing. The other went to her feet. As he knelt he received a swift kick to the face. He wailed and instinctively cradled his face as blood gushed from between his fingers. 'When you fight to live it doesn't matter how badly you hurt someone.' He thought. The large man finally joined them and helped the injured man to his feet. Altaïr crept along the top of the boulders following the crying man as he wiped blood from his mouth.

"Bitch I will dig my dagger in your chest when Phillip is done with you. I wouldn't lower myself to be tainted by a Erie savage anyways."

He made a quick glance as he readied himself for the plunge from his hiding spot. The large one was manhandling the woman and the dark one was laughing clearly entertained. 'Perfect.' He leapt and as he landed on the ashen haired man his blade extended from his wrist and it dug into his throat. With a swift jerk it sliced through making a clean cut. Blood splattered quietly on the rocks. The ashen man turned his hands going to his throat in shock his fingers feeling the large deep wound. His gray eyes were huge and pleading as he slumped to the ground looking up at the man who just dealt him a mortal blow. Altaïr pulled him quickly away making sure to not get blood on his white clothes. He dumped the body unceremoniously behind the boulder just as the large man came back. He held his breath waiting for him to call the other's name but he didn't. He stood very still but the small weak gasp of the dying man grabbed his attention again. He was stilling looking at him but it was death's look. His pupils began to dilate the gray became engulfed in black. Altaïr grimaced. It was his least favorite thing about death. His fingers ran over the man's eyes and closed them.

Small rocks fell as the large man came just around the corner. Altaïr quickly jumped and ran up the boulder and slid down behind the giant. His legs wrapped around his waist and his hand grabbed the thinning bleach blonde hair. His blow was as quiet as the other's. The blade sprang and sliced through his vocal cords but he still fought. He slammed his attacker against the boulder and struggled to get him off his back. Blood flew from his mouth as he tried to scream for his friend. Only a loud gurgling and thin gasps could be heard. Altaïr dug his feet into his back and jumped away knocking down the giant. He rolled to the ground and withdrew his sword as he stood. The large man was crawling on his hands and knees as blood seeped from his neck wound and his mouth. Walking up to him Altaïr lifted the blade just as the man grabbed his ankle. The flash of the cold metal struck down and the hand fell to the ground limp.

"Erik? Christopher?"

His head snapped up back to his surroundings. There was still one more and the _nisa_. When you kill it becomes a dance that pulls you in and it's heat and copper stench can be hard to break from. Altaïr pulled himself up another boulder and moved like a cat along watching.

* * *

"If you are a man not a demon then I have a proposition for you! I am rich! Back in my home my family owns many properties in the countryside of Toulouse! I will pay you handsomely if you let me live!" It was a sad effort to seduce the phantom that terrorized them both.

Brigid could feel Phillip's heart pounding against her back. Her own heart galloped. The silence was eerie. A bird's chirped was like a scream and a small breeze made her feel incredibly cold as sweat gathered on her brow. Her hands let his arm go and she pulled the rosary that was wrapped around her arm. She began to pray running the beads along her fingers. It was like a mantra as the Latin prayer was quietly repeated over and over.

"Shut up you idiot!" Phillip shoved her away from him and ran to his horse.

Brigid caught herself before she took another fall on the jagged rocks. She watched as Phillip mounted his white horse and then it seemed like a blur. To her, at that moment, an Angel descended from the sky illuminated by the sun in white brilliance and shimmered with silver. But that Angel quickly became a man that landed in front of her and bounded over to the French man on the horse. Phillip let out a yell to get the horse moving but it was all too late. The 'Angel' pulled him down and stabbed him with a blade that materialized out of thin air. Dark blood gushed from his throat onto the yellow ground and his body convulsed. Brigid stood there in shock and some how she found herself sitting. Staring at the man that only a few moments ago held her for dear life. She felt tears running down her cheeks and whispered "_Bocht féar_..." She swallowed hard and wrapped her rosary around her hands. She straightened her back and look up at the white figure. His face obscured by shadows and his hood. 'Do not die with fear. Die with courage!' Her Erie pride screamed in her mind.

"Are you going to kill me too then?" Her tone was venomous. "I was attacked by these men but they didn't deserve to die, so if you planned on killing us all then you should do me in quickly before you give me a chance to pick up a blade." She stood and wobbled slightly shaking her hair back away from her face. 'Courage!'

The blade shrank back to where it came from and the 'Angel' placed his hands on his hips a smirk poked at the corner of his mouth. "If I planned to kill you _Nasrani_ you wouldn't be standing right now."


	3. Chapter 3

Hey guys, I'm sorry I haven't updated in some time. Something very tragic happened in my life and it's been pretty painful to write about love when it feels like all love is lost. So here is what I had written before the incident. I'm going to try very hard to write more it just hurts too much sometimes when I sit down to write.

Update of Chapter! I got some good motivation from another author so I decided to add more to it. It's strange it's like when you lose someone you love, things that exsisted before the tragedy the become relics. Ancient artifacts with value beyond any comprehension...

Chapter 3 – Cinniúint…..

Brigid blinked at him. 'What?' was all she register in her mind. A rescuer who is Arabic speaks English? Why would he rescue me? I am a _Críostaí_ and _Eorpach_. Aren't we enemies to them? "Thank you then." She said to him and nodded to him. "I am in your debt. I shall consider you my friend forever."

Altaïr didn't move when she nodded to him. He was as still as a statue. He noted four horses instead of just the three from the men. The _nisa_ was foolish if she was riding alone. She was small and frail looking. Her hair was a bright, curly, and gold. It was cropped very short compared to the other _Urubi_. Her narrow shoulders and arms were just was pale as her white under tunic. She clung to a piece of her clothes that were pulled from her like it was a shield. Despite fact she couldn't see his eyes under his cowl she could still feel their scrutiny. Brigid cleared her throat and fidgeted under the gaze. Her cheeks flushed slightly for the lack of clothes she was wearing made this a truly awkward situation.

"Please will you allow me to dress?"

Altaïr turned away and whistled to his horse. He debated whether to leave this _Nasrani_ here and proceed with his mission or escort her to the nearest S_alibi_ post. 'What would Al Mualim do in this situation?' He would either have to be completely ignorant of the man to not know that answer. "Where are you headed?" He asked as he grasped the reigns of his horse.

"I am heading to Acre, well, it's more like a mission than anything else." Brigid said as she pulled her sleeves down and tied her black belt around the curve of her waist. Phillip's prone body still lay before them. Her eyes began to mist as the past few minutes whispered in her mind. She wiped the tears that threatened to fall with her white sleeve. Straightening her wimple she smiled at Altaïr's back. "Will you help me bury the dead? Despite the circumstance every man, woman, and child deserves a Christian burial." He instead mounted his horse and looked down at her.

"Don't waste your time burying them. By the time you are done the sun will have long set and what would that bring you?" He leaned back and opened a bag hanging from his saddle. Brigid barely caught the small but heavy water skin he tossed in her direction.

" Drink and let's go. I'll escort you there but that is all. I have business also in Acre. You will be far safer within the city limits than out here exposed on the open road." She looked up at him obviously torn to whether go with him or do her duty as a Christian. Her wide doe eyes obviously showed she wasn't used to such indifference towards other people. 'One green, one blue.' He noted to himself if he would have to end her life even in the unlikelihood of that such information is still good to have. She had a strange ring in her voice. The way she spoke the English language sounded like the strumming of a harp. Whatever she is he had to get rid of her quickly because just like anyone else she would slow him down.

Brigid knelt beside Phillip and turned his body on it's back. She folded his hands over his chest. She quickly ran to the campsite and pulled a blanket from the pile of junk that lay to the side and covered him in it. Clasping her hands together she looked up at the sky. "Lord God in the Highest, please forgive these men for the choices that they made I do not doubt that they have hurt others for perhaps flimsier reasons. I forgive them with all my heart because I love them just as my Husband Lord God Almighty does." She made the sign of the cross. "In Nomine Patris, Et Filii, Et Spiritus Sancti."

Altaïr nudged the flanks of his horse and began to walk away. This situation was getting too drawn out for his tastes. Brigid quickly ran to her piebald, mounted, and rode to catch up to him.

"You certainly know how to get things moving my friend." She smiled to him as she rode beside him. "What is your name?"

"My name has no importance."

Brigid arched an eyebrow and looked at him with a tilted head. 'What an odd man.' She thought. "Hmm." For several minutes it was silence. The trots of the horses filled the void between them. "My name is Sister Brigid." Her voice was gentle. "I came with my Brothers and Sisters to this land to help with morale and aide in spiritual and medical needs." Her thin fingers ran through the mare's mane. "Honestly I don't care who I aide we are all God's children may it be Christina, Muslim, Crusader, or Saracens."

"You talk a lot." Altaïr said in a matter-of-fact tone. His voice was aloof and he glared ahead. A loud laugh startled him from his poise. He looked over at Brigid who had flung her head back and was laughing. 'This person must be insane. Loving men who were going to rape and either kill or sell her to someone there must be something not right in her head!' Brigid let out a sigh as her laughter passed. She turned to look at him finally seeing this mysterious 'Angel's' face and giving him a serious look in the eye. Under the shadow of his white hood they looked like dark honey. He was frowning at her to the point there were deep creases at the corners of his mouth.

"Please be tolerant of my conversation good friend. For one year I didn't speak. One whole year!" She smiled warmly again trying to break the impenetrable ice this man put up. She held his eyes almost like holding the gaze of an unblinking predator. It was like looking into an ice wall with nothing behind it. Closing her eyes she began to hum again softly to herself. 'Thank you Lord for this Angel you sent me. I am safe with him if it is your will.'

_Fast forwarding memory_

The rooms and walls of the orphanage were beautifully adorned with flowers and wines. The ceilings were open to let in the warm sunlight and cool breezes. It was far better then the stuffy walls of the cloistered convent in England. Working the fields with the cold air blowing over the moors was harsh on her small hands. Brigid looked down at her hands as she sat as the children sang. A fellow Nun played the sitar as the children sang Latin songs. They both sat on wood stools. 'Why is my mind wandering?' She thought. Ever since she arrived in Acre with her 'Angel' she couldn't seem to stop her mind from wandering to him. 'Who was he?'

* * *

Altair jumped and snatched the ledge as he scrambled up the side of the terracotta building. His assassination of Garnier de Naplouse had definately gone noticed. His heart pumped hard in his chest as he lept off the roof of the building onto the next. The _Salibi _were hunting him down on the streets as well as the roofs. Arrows wizzed by his head as he ducked and dove. He made another leap but he failed to notive the one bowman below and to his right. The man shot and it grazed his arm leaving a deep cut. Caught off gaurd of the sudden blow he lost his footing as he landed hard on the edge of the roof and fell through the thin panelled structure. The stone floor came flying to his face.

* * *

The loud splintered crash made everyone jump to their feet. Some of the children screamed in surprise. Brigid sprang up and ran to the darkened room down the hall of the garden. She breathed hard her assault still fresh in her mind. She held herself at the door waiting for anything more but all was silent. She peeked inside and saw light coming from the roof and a body draped in white sprawled on the floor. Brigid slowly took quiet steps to the body and peered down. It was the 'Angel' that had rescued her! "What in God's name...?" She thought out loud to as she looked up at the hole and grimaced. That would cost the orphanage even more money then what they have. 

"Sister Brigid!" Mudiwa called from the garden. Turning on her heels she ran back out to the hallway and saw to her shock two armed soldiers pushing aside the children and her fellow Sister. She looked back at the 'Angel' and tried to compose herself.

"What are you doing?" She asked sternly as she walked from the back. Her hands clasped under her robes. The men turned their heads to her and stopped.

"Sister, it is believed an assassin has come onto your premises." One man said as they straightened themselves. "We need to look through this building."

"You will not!" She snapped. "If there was an unwanted guest you still don't have the right to burst in here and assault a fellow Sister and children!" Stepping forward she waved her hands to them. "Away go away with you all!"

Sorry if this wasn't that good I'll try better next time I promise!


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry for the wait! I got a new computer so I've been dealing with all that jazz. How was everyone's Christmas? I tried to get this out on the twenty-fifth but no such luck. I was also stuck in a rut torn between taking this some place else that now it's obviously not ready to lol. I hope you guys enjoy and the reviews have helped a lot! Thank you so much! The next chapter is going to be filled with goodies!

'_Altaïr…_'

The voice wavered in his mind. It was a ghost from another time.

'_Altaïr what are you doing? _' She laughed. The memory seemed like it was an eternity ago but truly only a few years. His heart began to hurt all over again. There she was standing in the market place laughing at him. Her ebony eyes filled with warmth for him only him. He felt like the foolish boy he once was again.

'_I must go… I am sorry you don't understand_.'

"Why?" He croaked out. It hurt so much. No, this is weakness!

* * *

Brigid wiped the wet linen cloth over her Angel's forehead. His arm was bleeding so she bandaged it with fresh herbs. She had dismissed the children and called for Mudiwa to help pull him to a bedroll in an adjacent room. Mudiwa's dark brow etched with worry as she watched her Sister close the door. She knew how she felt about seeing that. It wasn't right at all that a woman, let alone a Sister, be with a strange man by herself. It didn't matter what culture it was. 

His handsome bronze features grimaced slightly. His lips parted and he moaned unintelligibly. "Oh so you stir now after I do most of the hard work?" Brigid asked quietly with a smile. "Angel, what worries you so? Why did you crash through my roof? Did you lose your wings?" She ran a pale hand gently over his short black hair. She was used to seeing men with long hair whether it be commoner or noble. Even some Templars had hair to their waists. Where she came from hair was something of pride. Men and women wore it down and it flowed free with braids and jewelry dangling from it. Her mind went back to her childhood laughing and screaming, running barefoot around the castle with other children. "_Caithfidh mé é a dhéanamh_…" Her hand instictively went under her wimple and stroked her soft curls.

She shook her head and dropped her hand like it burned. "I must stop thinking these things! See what you did Angel? You have me dwelling on things that I am not allowed to! Perhaps you are a test from my Husband? A handsome one at that but I have to go so hurry and wake up."

* * *

"Altaïr…" 

The voice was crystal clear. Angered filled him. In his heart he hurt but anger made it saner. But still the soft voice egged him on. It was _Her_ voice! "I will fight this away!" He snapped flinging a fist out against it. To his shock he felt coldness surround him and a hard fist strike back against his chin. His fingers searched the darkness and felt cool stone. 'Stone? Where am I?' Memories flooded back to him of the chase and then darkness. Altair's eyes snapped open and he instinctively sprang into a crouch. The room was blurry to him but a figure stood that was clad in white. Had he made it to the Assassin's Bureau? Blinking away the fog there stood in front of him the _Nasrani _woman who called herself Sister Brigid. She was clutching her robes with her thin hands and she pursed her lips together.

* * *

"Shh! Your safe!" She stepped forward releasing her hands. "You fell through my roof but I managed to convince the city guards that all was well here in this orphanage." He seemed to tower over her slight form as he rose from the floor. Brigid didn't feel like a confident Celtic woman anymore. More like a shuddering leaf ready to fly away on the breeze. Why was she afraid? The aura around him seemed to pulse with power. She didn't want to figure out what it was. It would taint her she knew it. The Angel turned away from her and checked his assortment of weapons he had been carrying. A blade sprang from his wrist and he ran a finger over it almost in a loving fashion. It reminded her of any warrior man and his sword. 

"How long was I unconscious?" His deep voice broke her wandering mind back to the unadorned room in a foreign country. The Angel flexed his arms out away from himself and cracked the knuckles of his strong hands before turning back to her. He slowly pulled the white hood over his head. His eyes pierced into her as if he was cutting her open in every way, mentally, spiritually, and physically, searching for answers.

"Not even a half hour my friend." Brigid pulled her hands under her robes and shrugged. She tried her best to deflect his darkened gaze with an aloof reaction. Her insides on the other hand churned with uncertainty. 'Be strong you silly girl!' Her mind snapped. Of course that was easier said than done with such an intimidating person in front of her. Give her an army of sinners but this Angel was something else.

* * *

Time was being wasted. The rabble of street vendors was dying down. The day was ending and he has been idle far too long. Altaïr was tempted to chew on the inside of his cheek as he contemplated as to what should be done. What was worse? She had seen his face but at least she didn't know his name. To the _Salibi,_ one Arab looked like another and vice versa. This _nisa_ popped back into his life again much to his disdain. It would be far more preferable that they encountered once and only once. Now it's becoming a threat. Taking quick steps he walked over to the shuttered window and began to unlatch it. Her presence in his life had become far overstayed. 

"What are you doing?" Brigid snapped to him and her hand was suddenly over his pulling it away from the latch to his surprise. The girl was at his side with the speed of a cat catching a mouse. Her yellow brow furrowed and her full lips where now a grim line across her angular face. Had it been any other situation he would have simply pushed her small body to the bedroll and jumped out the window but it was not. She had helped him. There was honor in that. "If you plan on sprouting wings and flying out the window you have another thing coming! You either go out the door like a normal person or I will scream if you jump out this window. I've already lied for you today how will I explain a man jumping out this window to whomever sees you? Imagine what those guards would do to Sister Mudiwa if they feel they need to interrogate her too!"

The _Urubi nisa_ had a point. Not all men are stupid and forget easily. If someone complained to a guard of the disturbance he may cause if he were to be seen then they would potentially be arrested and questioned which would be bad for him. Altaïrstepped away from the window to let Brigid pass him to the door. She opened it and motioned hurriedly for him to follow. He followed her down the corridors passed rooms sparsely decorated as the last except several faded religious tapestries and ornaments. Finally they reached the heavy wooden doors leading to the street. She looked back at him with a smile as she lifted the metal latch and pulled it open just enough for both of them to slip through. "This door can creak quit loudly when it wants to." She said with a hushed tone as she stepped into the street. "Sister Mudiwa would want to know what was going on so it's best if we let her remain blissfully ignorant of this situation."

Like a cat Altaïr slid out the door into the shade of the building. People strolled by them not noticing the pair. The dusty streets were thinning as people prepared to go home and enjoy their rest. "That wasn't so bad was it?" The girl let out a light laugh and patted his uninjured arm. Such a contact made his hair stand on end. He quickly took her hand in his and placed it at her side while he glanced quickly around under his hood. Wherever she was from it was frowned upon to do that here. It didn't matter if they were in Acre or Damascus. To him it was still taboo.

* * *

Brigid was surprised when her Angel grabbed her hand and brought it back to her body. His fingers where calloused and hard, like the roots of a tree had wrapped around her. His hand engulfed her own like a blanket. "_Amaideach_." Her tongue whirled as her lips smiled. "_Féar anaithnid_. Be safe from now on and have better luck Angel. Don't loose your wings and fall through any more roofs. May my Husband bless you." She pulled her hand from his and she reached for the door. His eyebrow quirked up and he gave a strange look as she did this but his head snapped up when a cry shattered their peace. 

"Guards! Guards! There he is! You were right!" A boy in tattered clothes ran from an opened doorway shrouded in darkness. He flayed his arms around and thrust his finger in their direction.

She couldn't think. As Brigid turned to see the screeching beggar child her body was jerked forward with awesome force. The world whirled past her as she was pulled down the street with dizzying speed. "Suh…Stop!" She gasped as she was thrown around corner after corner. Tears stung her eyes as they fixed on the white hooded back of the Angel as hauled her away. Some how they dodged bystanders who gawked at the two as they sprinted away.


	5. Chapter 5

Sorry for the wait. My files I transfered to my new computer for some reason became corrupt and Windows Vista was like "I'm not going to make your day any easier!" So I had to rewrite a lot of stuff and find the information I had all over again. Also we kind of had a natural disaster where I live so yeah... Lot's of stuff going on. I'm still licking the wounds of my heart too so I just want to scream.

The Escape...

The thundering of their footsteps matched the pounding of her heart against her ribcage. At one point in their mad dash she had tripped and her Angel didn't give her time to stand. His bruising fingers wrapped around her elbow and yanked her to her feet. A yelp tore through Brigid's lips. It felt like a vice crushed her bones. What seemed like an eternity of running was only a few seconds. He pushed her into a darkened patio overgrown with creeper plants and thrust a firm hand over her mouth. Searching through the darkness her fingers found his arms. They were lithe with hard muscle under a silky tunic. 'What an odd combination'. Her mind thought as it whirled with madness. Her heart began to slow as the sounds of their pursuers ran past and faded away. The Angel didn't move. His hand still over her mouth he was like a statue. Brigid's frantic breathing slowed. Soon she realized how close they were and tried to push him away. His arm was wrapped around her waist and she was pressed to him. Her Angel's heart, despite the situation was slow and steady totally in control. He smelled like spice and sandalwood. It seemed to draw her in with its exotic unfamiliarity. She shook her head trying to get his hand off her mouth and began to struggle.  
"Stop it you Nasrani fool!" He hissed his breath was hot against her cheek. The Angel's arm squeezed her until she felt like she would break in half. Her breath caught and she let out a small gasp. "Fight me and I will toss you out in that street to die at the hands you your people." She nodded slowly forcing herself to relax against him to show subservience to him. He pulled away from her eventually and peeked around the alley way. Brigid backed away from him until her knees struck a wooden bench. 'What do I do?' She thought her mind reeled in confusion as she sat. Her hands ran along the fabric of her white robes that were now soiled at the hem. She let out a sigh and straightened the simple cloth and her thin fingers began to rub her temples.  
The Angel turned back to her. His gaze was dark and as hard as stone. His strides were long and fast as he returned to her side and grabbed her by the arm yet again. Barely having time to balance herself, he pulled her back out into the alley way and they walked silently in the shadows. Thoughts of what was to come and thoughts of escape ran through her mind as they passed people who paid them no heed as they prepared for the evening. What if she screamed and fought him? They would assume she was a hostage and perhaps they would leave her and the others alone? It was wrong to do she would be sending him straight to the hang man's noose. God would frown upon that. The sun was setting and the shutters of windows were closing and locking. Soon the pain in her arm grew to be unbearable and she stopped in her tracks. His hold didn't loosen or soften as he met a dead weight behind him. "Please let me go. You're hurting me." Her free hand tried to pry his fingers from her. "Do I have your word you wont run from me?" The Angel asked stepping close to her. He pulled a small blade from a pack tied to his wide leather belt. "If you do I will have no other choice but to use this on you despite my oath." The dagger reflected the dimming light in a sterile way. No emotion nothing not even from a symbol of death. Brigid's eyes grew wide and she nodded without saying another word. The Angel dropped her arm and twirled the blade through his fingers before returing it to it's home. "Don't walk behind me walk at my side." He said before contiuing his route to the unknown destination.

* * *

Altair was taking a big chance. He was already walking on a thin line but what would have been better? Leaving this inconveniance behind for the ravages of the gaurds who would do anything to please the Templars to get anything about the Hashashin or taking her with him so atleast he and the Brotherhood could control the information she had? His pace quickened as they neared the Assassin's Beaurue. Grabbing her arm again he pulled her to a darkened doorway and pressed her against the aged wood. Brigid looked up at him with those large questioning eyes. The shadows and the anxiety on her face made her look older than what she seemed to be.  
"What now?" Her voice was soft but urgent. He pulled a red silk sash from his waist and held it up to her in his two hands. A pale hand shot up and grabbed it. Altair side stepped away in a fluid motion as she reached for it. Shaking her head she backed away from him into the empty street. "No you don't dare do that!" She snapped at him. 'Why must everything be like this?' He pondered to himself as he took a step away from the shadows. "It's either this or it could be the alternative." He said in a cool collective way. He held the light silken material in an aloof fashion. It draped over his outstretched hand. He truly wanted it to get across she was expendable. She really was. Only an idea was stopping him from ending this problem. Slowly the Nasrani stepped forward to him and allowed him to slid the sash over her eyes. She didn't need to know more than she already had. Grabbing her hand he walked the rest of the way quickly until they reached the wall of the building. "Wrap your hands around my shoulders." Blindly reaching out she fingers entertwined around his chest. Reaching behind him he pulled her up into a piggy back and squeezed her legs around his waist. "If you let go and fall or make both of us fall I wont try to save you." She nodded her body went rigid and she clung to him in a death grip. Grasping the hand and footholds he scaled the building and quickly swung her off his back on to the roof before he joined her. "No." He said in a harsh tone when she tried to pull the blindfold from her eyes. His hand flicked hers away.

* * *

Brigid was sorely tempted to slap this Angel. Threatening her, pushing her around, treating her like she was some kind of animal! Who did the think he was? All this was his thanks for her help? "I'm not going to keep this thing on forever!" She snapped at him. She felt hot with anger and fear. Her emotions were a rock bouncing down a hill. She didn't know what to do. Pulling her legs under her she felt the cold breeze of twilight air. It was much more crisp up on the roof. The air wasn't pungent with sweat and dirt like it was in the streets. She felt the familiar curl of his painful fingers as he took her arm once again and they crawled along the roof. Her hands soon felt the entricate patterns of carved wood and creeper vines weaving around them. Without warning strong arms enveloped her and gravity vanished. With a grunt she felt the impact of ground and she was dropped unceremoniously onto the floor. 


End file.
